You Have Control
by lijdgreat916
Summary: Emiya Shirou has always wanted to help people. Unfortunately, it's not like being a hero is easy. Or cheap, for that matter. Thankfully, there's a place he can earn cash fast, a surreal city aptly named the Financial District, run by the enigmatic Bank of Midas. All he needs to do to start his fortune is to hand over his future as collateral...
1. FOREWARNED

**Disclaimer:** _No, I don't own anything... yet. It's gonna happen. Eventually. Possibly?_

 _The idea for this story came from... well, to be honest, I just really wanted to do a CMSPC crossover. It might have something to do with the fact that I've been catching up on my Econ lately. I'm not entirely sure where Fate came in, but I figured what the hay. Sooooo, here's a short prologue, just so you guys can see what it's like! I wrote it in about three hours, but I think it turned out pretty well. Read and review!_

* * *

 **You Have Control**

 **[FOREWARNED]**

* * *

"The company hired you right off the bat?"

"Yeah, I'm surprised myself. It's not everyday a place like that hires it's interns."

Emiya Shirou turned around in his chair and gave his friend a smile. "That's good! I bet you'll be rolling in dough in no time!" He idly shut the textbook he had been studying, opting instead to sit down on the couch. "A big law firm like that, they're gonna need you there."

In contrast to his friend's easy-going demeanor, Ryuudou Issei had a look of exhaustion upon his face. "I guess, though it's tiring having to work there. I get that the pay is good, but I just can't see myself there in five years." He let out a sigh. "I just don't think law is for me."

"What's the big deal?" The grating voice of Matou Shinji drifted from his room, blending with the tin sound of explosions and guns firing. "A job is a job. Quit complaining and get on it!"

It was a good thing Shinji wasn't in the living room, because if he was, he would never have been able to withstand the utter look of loathing emanating from Issei's form. "I don't wanna hear that from the guy who plays video games all day and lives off his family's inheritance money!"

There was silence, before Shinji drawled out, "... don't be jelly."

" _AUUUUUGH!_ "

Try as he might, Shirou was unable to resist the temptation to palm his face. Sometimes, his roommates could be a handful.

The three men, Shinji, Shirou, and Issei, were all childhood friends from Fuyuki City. Well, it was more like Shirou was friends with the both of them, while Issei tolerated Shinji's existence and Shinji could care less what anyone thought of him. It was a strange dynamic, one that caused more trouble than it was probably worth. It was only through Shirou's valiant efforts as negotiator and being an all-around nice person that the two hadn't torn each other apart.

They lived together in a spacious house in the suburban part of Tokyo, sharing the rent equally. Shirou was the caretaker of the house, cleaning and cooking when he wasn't busy with his multiple part-time jobs. Issei interned at a huge law firm downtown, a monthly allowance from his family allowing him to stay relatively comfortable. And Shinji... well, he just kind of stayed at the house lazing around all day, mooching off the absurd amount of money his family had. His presence was tolerated because Shirou considered him a friend, and because the he bought the giant 55' inch 4kHD curved-screen plasma TV in the living room. With Netflix.

All three of them worshiped that TV.

"Can't you guys be nice?" Shirou pleadingly asked. "Just for once?"

Issei scoffed. "I can hardly be expected to be civil to that leech of a human being. He doesn't do anything productive, he's always raiding the refrigerator, he constantly sneaks pornographic material on my computer-"

"HAH!"

"-and I just plain _hate his guts!_ " The last three words were bellowed out with the fury of a thousand unpaid interns rooming with an annoying layabout. Or just an extremely annoyed former monk.

"Whatever, man." The sound of footsteps upon the wood-paneled floor could be heard, and the sulking form of Shinji Matou walked into the living room. He stalked over to the fridge and pulled out a can of soda, before plopping himself on the couch next to Shirou and flicking the (glorious, _glorious_ ) TV on. "Personally, I think you just need to get laid. Maybe then you'd stop bitching all the time." Ignoring the spluttering indignations of Issei, the blue-haired rich boy turned towards the janitor. "Oh yeah, by the way, we're running low on food." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a large chunk of money, unceremoniously shoving it into Shirou's hands. "So... you know, go get some more."

Shirou, for his part, just frowned, before standing up. "Yeah, yeah, I'm on it." He flipped through the bank notes, removing a third of the paper and throwing it back onto his friend's lap, where Shinji promptly ignored it in favor of the action movie his eye were glued to. As Shirou made his way to the front door, he turned to look at Issei. "Make sure he doesn't burn the house down, okay?"

Issei opened his mouth, shut it, then folded his arms. "I can't guarantee it won't happen, but know that I _did_ try my best."

In the background, a shot of a mushroom cloud appeared on the TV, Shinji letting out a loud _woohoo!_

* * *

 **[C]**

* * *

"Mezzoflation, six million!"

 **[MEZZO - ABSOLUTE ADVANTAGE]**

There was a flash of blue light, exploding outwards and creating a strong wind. After moment, it condensed, taking the form of an armored warrior before shooting off towards him.

 _Not good, not good, NOT GOOD!_ Nakijima Kaito rushed to get out of the way, dodging by just as the blue streak passed him and crashed into his Asset. The resulting explosion threw him even further off away, and as he tumbled across the ground he almost fell off of the building. _Shit!_ Somehow he found purchase, and he managed to grab the edge just before he fell off. With a heavy grunt, he pulled himself back onto the roof of the building, panting heavily.

"Is that all you have?"

Kaito glanced up at his opponent, a sneer on his aged face. "You think just because you got the drop on me you've won?" He pushed his hands together, summoning a dark green shaft of light with yellow highlights. "You really shouldn't underestimate your opponents like that!" He sprinted towards his opponent's diminutive form, bringing down the deadly blade of light on her head.

 **[DIRECT]**

She had moved her head at the last second, so Kaito's sword was embedded in her shoulder instead. The aged entrepreneur smiled as black liquid gushed out of the wound he created, Midas Money flying through the air. Off to the side, his Account grew exponentially in size as his opponent's shrunk. "I can't believe I got you this easy," he huffed. "You were moving all over the place earlier!"

"Was I?" she asked in a haughty voice. "Odd, I thought I was just taking a stroll." To Kaito's amazement, she smiled. "You're not getting winded, are you Old Man?"

Furious at his opponents disrespect, Kaito raised his sword back up. "You little brat, I'll teach you some manners!" He brought the sword down, intent on smashing her head open-

And then he couldn't move. It was like he was encased in metal, with the way his body refused to move an inch. "Wha- what's going on?" Then there was a sudden burst of pain from his chest, and he stumbled to his knees, his sword dissolving into motes of light while he clutched his chest. "Why do I-?"

"Assets are a reflection of their Entre's future." His opponent grinned wildly at his pain, her voice dripping with malice. "So, it only makes sense that the two are connected. Which means, if one of them is near death," at this, she turned her head to look at something. Entranced, Kaito couldn't help but look in the same direction as her, only to blanch when he saw that his Asset was covered in black liquid, dangled over the top of the building by the enemy Asset.

"And that's checkmate." The woman pointed her hand at Kaito's head, her other arm balancing her hand as if she were shooting a gun.

 _I can't lose like this! I haven't earned enough money!_ With shaking hands, Kaito reached for his Midas Card, hoping against all odds he might be able to pull off a flation and win the deal-

 **[DIRECT]**

The pain was agonizing. Through the haze of pain, Kaito could see that her Direct was thin as a stick, almost like a rapier, and that it glowed a sickly dark crimson. And past that, just beyond the enemy Entre's shoulder, he saw his account being absorbed into hers. Smaller and smaller it became, until it disappeared completely.

 **[CLOSING - YOU HAVE GAIN]**

She idly flipped her silver Midas card between her fingers, smiling at the bright blue circle that appeared around it.

In contrast, Kaito could only look on in despair as his own card fell to the floor, shattering upon impact, and finally dissolving into streams of light. He could feel his existence in the District unraveling, and there was a pull in his chest and there was a br _ig_ ht ligh **t th** at was _war_ m an **d c** ol _d at th_ e same time **then t** her _e wa_ s a never endi _ng blackness and_ -

 **[YOU ARE BANKRUPT]**

The sound of static could be heard, and then Nakajima Kaito was banished from the Financial District, his future gone.

The woman frowned at the disappearance of her opponent. Bankrupting someone was never an easy pill to swallow, but she saw it as either them or her. And since she had no intention of losing either her money or her future, then she would gladly take away from others.

She turned around and began to make her way down the building. She ignored the spectators who whistled at her from a parallel building, choosing instead to address her Asset. "So, how did it go?"

There was a shimmer of light, and then her Asset appeared before her in a kneeling position. The Asset was also a woman, and she wore a blue dress with armor segmented in different places. In her pommeled hands was the hilt of a sword, the actual blade itself covered by a barrier of wind that made it transparent. The crystallization of her future stood before speaking. "The enemy wasn't as skilled as I thought they would be. I was able to dispatch them with ease."

"Well, that's good." She walked passed her asset, and the warrior fell into place behind her.

"On the contrary, Master, I have some issues with the strategy you chose to employ."

"Oh?" The female Entre turned around, idly brushing a strand of dark brown hair behind her ear before facing the stern expression of her Asset. "And just what would those be?"

"Using yourself as bait," the armored woman bit out. " _I_ am your sword, and as such there is no need for you to take drastic measures such as those!" As if to emphasize her words, the sword in her hands seemed to pulsate in agreement.

"Oh, you worry too much Artoria." The woman brushed off her Asset's concerns. "As long as I have you around, I'll be fine."

Artoria huffed in disappointment at her Entre's flippant dismissal of her worries. "I swear Rin, that attitude of yours will be the death of us."

* * *

 **[C]**

* * *

"Hey mister, are you okay?"

Shirou stared in worry at the man next to him. In truth, he wasn't even sure when he had gotten there, only that the man was sweating heavily and a look of absolute despair was on his face. The man had been fumbling through his wallet for a while now, and had emptied it's contents onto the platform. There were credit cards mostly, but there was a picture of the man, standing on the left side of a grassy field as though waiting for someone.

To say the man looked disturbed was an understatement.

Shirou had just come from the grocery store, food laden in plastic bags held in his hands. While there were plenty of stores near the house he and his roommates lived, Shirou knew of a specialty store that sold organic food at a cheap price. It was across town, so he had to take the light rail there.

There wasn't anybody on the platform, aside from himself and the man who looked to be breaking down. He stood a couple feet to the right of Shirou, shivering in place. The man turned towards the red-haired teen, his expression reeking of desperation. "I-I'm fine," he reassured Shirou. "Just... just a little tired, is all."

The platform started to rumble, signaling the arrival of a train. It was the express headed further into Tokyo, not the one Shirou planned to board. It would go unstopped past this station.

As the vibrations grew the man started to shiver harder, and Shirou wondered just what had the man so worried.

The man began to pace away from him, abandoning his wallet altogether. Normally, any Japanese citizen would leave well enough alone, but Shirou was not someone you'd call a normal individual. He sighed, and left his groceries on the ground to pick up the wallet and all that had fallen out of it. As knelt to the floor and scooped the many cards into his hand, he saw the ID. "Hey, Nakajima-san? You probably already know this, but you dropped your wallet-"

When the man rushed past him and leaped onto the train tracks, Shirou knew with a terrible clarity just what had worried the man so.

There was the sound of something soft bursting against metal, screams, and then brakes.


	2. FRICTION

**Disclaimer:** _Alright, so it turns out that getting ownership of licensed properties is significantly harder than previously anticipated. So for the time being, I still own neither of these two great franchises, and the following piece of writing was only created for my amusement... and because my friend Tommy took one look at the prologue and told me to continue._

 _Not a lot of action here, this chapter is more of an... well, let's call it an introductory phase, shall we?_

 _Shameless plug time!_ _If you like either Evangelion or Tokyo Ghoul, feel free to check out my other story,_ The World Unraveled _. It's only got a prologue and two chapters, but they total up to 25000 words, so it should keep you occupied for a short while at the very least. And so, without further ado, r_ _ead, enjoy, and review!_

* * *

 **You Have Control**

 **[FRICTION]**

* * *

"Hey, Emiya. Oi, Emiya!"

"He's been like this for the last two days. I'm really starting to worry about him."

"You're right, this is bad. Who the hell's gonna do the cooking?"

"... I don't know why I still expect basic human decency from you."

"Decency is overrated. I'm frickin' starving over here!"

At any other time, Shirou might have interjected. Really, Shinji and Issei's arguments drove him up the wall sometimes. However, he just couldn't bring himself to care at the moment. Instead, he opted to partake in his favorite pastime - namely, cooking.

He stole into the kitchen, his roommates unaware he'd left their company as they were so caught up in yet another argument. He brought out the various pots and pans he would need, and gathered all the ingredients. It was like he was on autopilot, which normally wasn't the case with Shirou, as he was usually enthusiastic whenever he was in a kitchen. Though, he could imagine why that'd be.

It had been two days since he had last gone out for groceries. Two days since a man committed suicide right in front of him by running in the way of a speeding train.

Now, it wasn't like Shirou hadn't seen people die before. Just the opposite, in fact. However, it was the first time that he'd witnessed someone make the drastic decision of taking their own life. And quite frankly, Shirou couldn't see why anyone would make such a choice. It was still bothering him at this very moment, he just couldn't fathom what would push someone so far over the edge.

And the worst part? After answering the questions the police had, which were standard fare for the most part, nobody had claimed the body. The people on the train were actually irritated, even. They were more concerned with being inconvenienced than by the fact that they had practically been standing over a man's corpse. It was that uncaring attitude that pissed off Shirou, the unwillingness to grieve over a fellow human.

 _I came to this city so that I could help people like that. To save them_. He idly grabbed the soy sauce and poured some into the stir fry. _I need to get faster. I need to graduate college quicker. If I don't, more people like him will_ -

"Emiya, you dumbass, the pan's on fire!"

And indeed it was. Shirou had spaced out, and now the contents of the stir fry had been burned to a crisp, courtesy of the giant flame eating away at the pot. It was almost with a pained lethargy that Shirou reached over and grabbed the baking soda before smothering the fire, ignoring Shinji's barbed exclamations and Issei's panicked screams.

He turned towards his two friends, a sheepish grin on his face. "So," he began, looking sheepishly at his clearly annoyed roommates, "you guys feel like takeout?"

* * *

 **[C]**

* * *

Shinji greedily tore into his ramen, slurping loudly as he did so. "I tell you Emiya, even if it looks like I'm enjoying this ramen, _which I'm not_ , I'm still pretty pissed at you." He tilted the bowl and gulped down the soup, before slamming it down and reaching for a second bowl. "You can't just go burning the food! I mean, it's not like you're the one paying for this, you know?"

"You can't really say that," Issei said, carefully blowing on his noodles. "Considering you've never worked a day in your life."

"That's not true! What about that job I took as a host!"

Issei scoffed, much to Shirou's amusement. "First of all, being a host is hardly work." A vein popped up on the aspiring lawyer's forehead. "And secondly, you weren't even working there! You just wandered in and tricked the ladies into thinking you were a new employee!"

"I provided a service, upon which all parties benefited. The ladies were given positive company for an hour, and I received payment for my efforts." An infuriatingly smug grin broke out across Shinji's face. "Oh, wait, I know why you're upset about that. It's because that girl you've got a crush on ended up asking for my-"

"I refuse to listen to your _blatant_ lies!"

Shirou tried hard to stay out of their argument, he truly did. But he couldn't help but ask, "How did you even get away with posing as a host anyway?"

A proud aura emanated from Shinji. "Oh, it turned out the club's manager was a woman. So, after she caught me all I did was use the old Matou family's secret technique." The blue-haired layabout tilted his head back as he gloated. "After that, she was like putty in my hands. Seriously, the gift I have with women should be weaponi- HOLD ON JUST ONE DAMN MINUTE!" A finger was pointed accusingly at Shirou. "Don't you try to change the subject!"

 _You guys did that just fine yourselves_. "I don't know what you guys are talking about," Shirou said.

"Don't play dumb with me, Emiya. You might be able to get away with that with monk-boy over there," Shinji said, promptly ignoring Issei's indignation at such a demeaning title, "but that won't fly with me. You need to get your head outta the damn clouds! What if you accidentally set the house on fire? Or, Kami forbid," at this Shinji glanced at the giant TV in the living room, a nervous bead of sweat running down his face, "you break little _Ayumi-chan?!_ "

Issei managed to wipe the fluster off his face before turning to his friend. "As much as I hate to admit it, the mouth breather has a point. You've been... distracted, for the past few days." A look of genuine concern flashed on his face. "Is everything alright?"

The whole time Shirou had been idly stirring his ramen noodles. He hadn't told them of what he had seen, of the man who'd just thrown his life away. And there probably wasn't any need to. They had already learned of the suicide by the time he had gotten back, and just like the people on the train, they had treated the incident with a sort of bored detachment. Not that Shirou could blame them. It was easy to see why people would think like that, why they would just ignore the tragedies occurring around their everyday lives.

He was certainly guilty of that, all those years ago.

"Look guys, I'm fine," Shirou lied through his teeth. "Work is just tiring me out, is all." When his roommates wouldn't drop their disbelieving stares, the red-haired part-timer decided a bigger lie was needed to assuage their worries. "Also, I was turned down by another investor."

At this, both Shinji and Issei gave him sympathetic looks. "Yeah," Shinji muttered, "that'd do it."

When the three of them had moved to Tokyo, it had been for various reasons. Issei simply wanted better job opportunities that couldn't be found in Fuyuki City, so that he could live a comfortable life wherein he was financially secure, maybe even start a family. Shinji, who hadn't wanted for anything since he was born, just wanted to get away from his family... and to not have to drive for eight hours to get to the Tokyo Game Show.

Shirou, on the other hand, had moved to Tokyo in order to make the world a better place.

Ever since he could remember, Shirou Emiya had always wanted to help people. It had started small, with him defending weaker students from bullies in elementary school. After that, he learned how to repair all kinds of machinery in order to fix equipment so that his middle and high schools wouldn't have to spend so much money, an act which earned him the embarrassing moniker of 'fake janitor'. Most of his free-time even was spent as a volunteer with certain charities that benefited the poor and homeless. And in return for his services? Nothing. He did all of these things for the enjoyment of it, because there was nothing Shirou loved more than helping people, and the _feeling_ itself of helping people.

If one were to ask the younger Shirou what he wanted to be when he grew up, they would receive quite the odd response: _I want to be a Hero_.

Now that he was older, that answer had changed, though it was no less odd: _I want to be a Savior_.

But just how to become a Savior? Certainly, the title itself seemed arrogant, but to Shirou it was a title he one day hoped to be worthy of. His first idea, to become an Ally of Justice, was vague at best. Sure, he could become a policeman, it wasn't like he lacked the smarts or physique, but it didn't have enough impact. Being a politician was out of the question, as not only did he abhor the very subject of politics, but he was pretty sure he would want to kill all politicians his first day in office. He briefly toyed with the idea of joining the JSDF, though he was more interested in saving everyone, as opposed to just the lives of his own country.

Then he had a breakthrough. He would create an organization. An organization dedicated to making the world a better place. It was a juvenile generalization, and he had no idea just how to go about creating such a structured corporation, but that was what Business classes in Tokyo University were for.

Now, while his intentions were pure, and he there was no doubt he possessed the drive, there was one thing that Shirou lacked.

Money.

He hadn't come from a filthy rich family like Shinji, nor did he have any relatives he could ask to fund his venture like Issei did. So, Shirou decided he would take baby-steps.

First off, he would need to pay off the tuition fees for his university and the rent for the house. No problems on that front, that was what the three part-time jobs were for. Plus, his father had left him a modest inheritance before he passed away, so there was also that to fall back on.

Secondly, he needed to find an investor willing to put money towards the organization. This step was, unfortunately, where Shirou's entire plan fell apart. Mainly because...

"I keep telling you, no sane person is willing to fork over money for something like that." Shinji had finished his two bowls, and now he was lounging down on the couch as he flipped through channels on the TV. " _Especially_ with the shape the economy's in right now. Most folks just aren't willing to invest in something that won't turn a profit."

Shirou rolled his eyes. "It's a _non-profit_ organization, that's the whole point-"

"Which is why no one wants to back you," Shinji replied. He turned to look at Issei. "Four-eyes, talk some sense into this idiot, will ya?"

For once, Issei wasn't offended by Shinji's comment, mostly because his attention was focused on Shirou. "He's right you know," the aspiring lawyer admitted, a sour expression on his face. "The chances of an investor being interested in this concept of yours is close to zero. It doesn't help that the amount you're asking for is... quite large."

For once, it was Shirou's turn to act bitter. "It's not a concept, it's just an idea that hasn't lifted off the ground yet." Why couldn't his friends see that this was more than a pet project of his? That it was something he would willingly dedicate his whole life to?

"I'm pretty sure that's the _definition_ of a concept," Shinji commented. "Look Emiya, I'm not tryin' to say what you're doing isn't noble. However, it isn't realistically feasible. Maybe you'll have better luck when we get out of this recession, but as it is, I wouldn't hold my breath." There was a pause from the man, as if he were struggling to get his next words out. "Plus, you've been spending way too much time on it. I get that this is your baby, but with how many hours you put towards it? It's making the both of us worry."

Shirou at first ignored the vitriolic words, only to pause when he saw that Issei's face was, shockingly, set in agreement. Shirou sat there in silence for a while, just staring at his cold ramen. Finally, he got off and made his way to the front door, slipping on his shoes and grabbing his jacket from the wall hanger.

"And just where do you think you're going?" Shinji asked.

Shirou replied just as he shut the door, barely resisting the urge to slam it. "A walk."

* * *

 **[C]**

* * *

 _They're wrong. I'll find someone to back me up on this, I just haven't looked hard enough_. He placed his feet one in front of the other, unaware and uncaring of where his body was taking him. _I'll find a way to make it happen. I've got enough education in business and economics, that should translate to a high-paying job, right?_ New scenarios made themselves known in Shirou's mind. Y _eah, I'll get a good job, hoard away some money, and I'll fund this organization myself! I don't need investors, I just need money! As long as I have that, then... then.._.

He stopped under the light of a streetlamp, the dark of the night seeming more oppressive than it ever had before. He leaned up against the lamppost, sighing as he leaned his head against the cool metal. _I'm in way over my head, aren't I?_ When no one answered his unspoken question, he closed his eyes in defeat. _Yeah, yeah I am. Thought so_.

It was infuriating, knowing that his dream was near impossible to achieve. If Shirou were one to get angry, he'd probably be smashing trash bins in frustration right about now. As it was, he merely sighed and rubbed the back of his head. _I shouldn't have acted that way towards them. They didn't deserve that._ He took a moment, then amended the thought. _Well, Issei certainly didn't_. For another few minutes he stood there, before walking back towards the house. _I should go back and apologize. We're getting low on soy sauce as it is. I'll make a stop at a convenience store. And tomorrow, I'll buy I'll the stuff I burned. Maybe then Shinji will be in a better mood-_

"Good evening."

The voice was startling, and sounded as though someone had just whispered it in his ear. Surprised, Shirou turned around, only to face the strangest individual he had ever met.

It was a tall man, maybe seven feet. He wore a comical outfit, a cross between cosplay and lunacy. What looked like a business suit sat over his tall frame, and a pink - seriously, pink? - mantle was settled over his shoulders, and a top hat embroidered with large golden M's sat atop his head. In his hands was a gilded cane, the handle of which was a golden depiction of either a gargoyle or a particularly ugly elf, making the cane more of a scepter than anything else. His hair, as pink as the mantle, and his face was dominated by a Cheshire-like smile, all teeth. However, the man's most intriguing feature?

 _Are his eyes... yellow and pink?_ Shirou rubbed his eyes, blinked, and rubbed his eyes again. _Okay, I think Shinji spiked my food. Again_.

"Oh, I wouldn't worry, Mr. Emiya. I assure you, I'm quite real," the man said, his grin somehow growing even larger. "As a matter of fact, I daresay that I'm the most realistic person you've ever seen."

"That..." Shirou tried to find something polite to say. He failed in his search. Instead, he muttered, "... doesn't make any sense. Just who are you?" _And more importantly,_ "How do you know my name?"

The two humans, one of which was dubiously so, stared each other down. Shirou had set his face in a grimace, expecting that this man was either a) one of the many odd individuals that inhabited the nightlife of Tokyo, or b) another hallucinogenic-induced persona that would probably make the next hour or so of his life _very_ confusing.

The man gave a deep bow, the smile never leaving his face. "My name is Masakaki, and I am a representative of the Bank of Midas." He took off his hat and crossed it over his heart. "A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Emiya."

 _He didn't answer the second question_ , Shirou realized, a bead of sweat going down the back of his head. "Okay then... did you want something from me, or...?"

Masakaki chuckled, a bell-like jingle that sounded oddly fitting. "Straight to the point I see, a man after my own heart." He lifted the scepter into his other hand and began to pace circles around Shirou. "You have been randomly selected to become an entrepreneur of the Financial District. You can choose to decline the offer, but I must inform you that you would be missing out on the chance to win big money, not to mention the fact that I'll likely keep hounding you until you say yes." All of this was said with that unnerving smile plastered on Masakaki's face. "So, what do you say?"

Shirou shifted on his feet. _Alright, so it's neither A or B. He's just a promoter for a bank, albeit a weirdly dressed one. And blunt._ "Sorry, but, I don't want to take a survey," he said, turning his back and walking home. "I've got some stuff to do, you see..."

"Oh, how inconsiderate of me!" Masakaki was at his side now, twirling his scepter around. "I hadn't given a thought as to what you might be doing. Here, let me expedite the process for you!"

Shirou blinked.

And then he was in a Supermarket.

His foot paused in mid-step, before he calmly set it down. He recognized this place, it was the one market he had to take a train to. There were people in the market, browsing the various goods with a bored look on their face. The only difference between then and now was-

"I hope you don't mind, I took the liberty of halting the passage of time." Masakaki was, inexplicably, floating upside down in the air, his clothes perfectly straight despite the laws of physics wanting to say otherwise. "This way, you can browse for however long you like!"

Everyone in the store was frozen in place. Some in mid-step, others just waiting in line at the service counter. At first, they could be mistaken for being very, very still, but upon closer examination, he realized that no one was breathing, or blinking, and their eyes weren't contracting. Shirou was willing to bet the little money he held to his name that if he took the time to check, he'd find that their pulse was still as well.

It was quite unnerving.

To say that Shirou was confused would be an enormous understatement. More like he was somewhat terrified by what had just happened. Not only had he apparently just been teleported, but evidently this strange man also had the capability to stop time. And... Shirou couldn't help but notice that he was taking all of this surprisingly well. Maybe it was another of the man's strange abilities? Though it was possible that all of this was just a dream, and he'd wake up sooner or later. With this knowledge in mind, Shirou grabbed a cart and made his way down the aisles.

Masakaki followed him, walking upside down as normally as if the air were a ceiling of some sort. "I must say, you're taking all of this remarkably well. Normally the prospective Entre's are, how do I put this... ah! They're usually panicking and asking my identity right about now."

Shirou shrugged his shoulders. "Something tells me you wouldn't give me a straight answer. The way I see it, you're just a figment of my imagination, and as soon as I wake up, you'll be gone." He stopped in front of a display of lettuce and cabbage. "And entertaining the fact that you _are_ real, than it's not like I'm in any position to demand answers. Generally speaking, I make it a policy not to upset people that can stop time and teleport." Shirou frowned in dismay. "I can't believe how expensive this is. I could get twice that amount at _Yoshinori's_ for half the price. Maybe it's organic?"

"Quite the sound mind you have there, Mr. Emiya," Masakaki remarked. "And I wouldn't worry about the expense, it's not like you'll be paying for it."

Shirou stopped the cart and sent a glare towards the bank representative. "Well, I'm certainly not stealing anything."

Masakaki laughed out loud, a truly disturbing sight. When the otherworldly being ceased his chuckles, he stared at the prospective Entre in delight. "And I never implied such a thing! I simply meant that the Bank would be covering your purchase here, a gesture of good will you could say."

Satisfied that he wouldn't be stealing anytime soon, the would-be-savior turned a corner, and started to head down the meat section. "So. What exactly _is_ your deal?"

"As I have previously stated, I am a representative of the Bank of Midas."

Shirou turned towards Masakaki, who seemed to be juggling a pair of oranges and his scepter. "Okay, that's good and all, but what does that _mean?_ "

"I suppose you could think of us as just any regular bank, the difference being we're more liberal with who obtains money." Masakaki hopped down from the air and set his legs down on the linoleum-tiled surface. "Like I said, you've been randomly selected by the Bank to become an Entrepreneur, or Entre for short."

"Okay, so what does that entail?"

"When you get right down to it, it's all a simple question, is all." The dapper representative leaned in close to Shirou, causing the young man to take a step back. "How would you like it if I told you there is a place you could earn obscene amounts of wealth overnight?"

There was a saying in the West - don't make a deal with the devil. While the Japanese might have have reworded it a bit, the message was still essentially the same. Shirou himself had never had to heed those words, mostly because he'd never found himself in a situation where he'd have to make a deal with said proverbial devil. But the longer he considered Masakaki's words, the more that old saying repeated itself in it's mind. "I'd say that's grand, but I'm not sure if-"

"You're welcome to refuse the invitation, if you'd like," the representative spouted, turning in place and marching comically away, "though, again, I'll just hound you until you say yes. And anyway," Masakaki swiveled around on a dime, a strange predatory glint in his eyes, "wouldn't starting up that organization of yours be easier if you joined up?"

To hear someone speak with so much - Shirou wasn't sure what else to call it - _enthusiasm_ about his project set something off in his head. "You know about that?"

"But of course! The Bank knows nearly everything about you, Mr. Emiya! And I must say, it's quite the noble venture." Masakaki was behind him now, having moved there when he wasn't looking. "Someone who thinks of others before himself? The Bank would love to have you!"

Several thoughts ran throughout Shirou's head. Somewhere in the conversation he had stopped thinking if anything was real, and instead focused on the one particular thing Masakaki had mentioned: Money.

 _Normally, this would be too good to be true. But, if I had enough money, I wouldn't need to look for investors anymore_. Shirou's fists clenched, anticipation running through his veins. _I could... I could finally start saving the world!_ His mind set, the college student looked determinedly at Masakaki. "So then, if I accept, there's a chance that I could win a lot of money?"

Perhaps it was a trick of the light, but Masakaki's grin become more pronounced for a moment. "Well, it all depends on how well you handle yourself in a Deal, my boy." The otherworldly being stretched out his gloved hand towards Shirou. "Of course, there is something I must tell you. In order to become an Entrepreneur, you must be willing to hand over your future, which the Bank will hold onto as collateral. Knowing this, are you still willing to join?"

 _My future as collateral?_ As ominous as the sentence sounded, the statement was so vague and open-ended that Shirou didn't even bother thinking over the specifics. "Yeah." He grasped Masakaki's hand in his own and shook it vigorously. "Yeah, I do!"

The groceries lay forgotten on the floor.

Masakaki leaped in joy twirling in delight in mid air. "Excellent! Then it's settled!" The strange man snapped his fingers.

Shirou blinked.

And then he was in a parking lot.

The sensation of standing in one place when being yanked somewhere new was still a disorientating feeling, but he managed to keep sound. Masakaki was standing right beside him, his scepter held in front of Shirou's chest. "Watch your step, please."

Just as he was about to ask what the representative was talking about, the sound of an old engine sounded throughout the nighttime air. He looked to his right, and was surprised to see an old beetle-like black cab speeding towards them. The brakes were hit, and the tires screeched against the asphalt as it came to a sudden stop in front of them. One of the back door's opened up, revealing a leather-clad interior.

Masakaki ushered him into the cab, and as they sat inside the vehicle, an old man wearing a chauffeur's uniform stared back at them. He had a head of grey hair, atop of which was a cabbie hat decorated with the same figurine that was on Masakaki's scepter. His eyes seemed impossibly huge, and he talked with a gravelly voice. "Where to, boss?"

"Why, the Financial District of course!" Masakaki pointed his scepter forwards, with Shirou narrowly lowering his head in time to avoid it. "Quickly now, we mustn't dawdle, Mr. Emiya over here has a deal scheduled immediately!"

The old cab driver switched the vacant sign to occupant before flipping a switch on his dashboard. "The Financial District it is." And then the engine was again roared to life, the car driving ahead at breakneck speed.

As Shirou looked around for a seat belt in vain, he noticed that the car was headed straight for a concrete wall. "H-hey, wait a minute!" he sputtered out. "You're gonna cra-"

There was a flash of rainbow light, with Shirou's arms held up in preparation for a crash that never came. As he realized that he was miraculously still alive, he opened his eyes and beheld a truly magnificent sight.

They were on a gold-paved road, seemingly suspended in mid-air, with statues of a donkey-eared figures lining the sides of the pavement. A crimson red sky loomed above them, though astonishingly it was more calming than ominous. White-scaled building towered in the background, looking for all the world an almost perfect replica of downtown Tokyo's skyline. Further ahead was a large open structure, with three other roads seeming to intersect at that point. The detail that most captured his attention however, was a giant golden coin hanging in the sky, a series of ever increasing numbers displayed in center, with an inscription reading _Total Assets of the District_ in English directly above that. There were strange creatures, too, some walking side by side with other humans, and some floating about in the air, none of whom appeared to be hostile.

It was otherworldly. It was impossibly real. And for whatever reason, Shirou found himself absolutely fascinated with the place.

"It's quite the sight, isn't it?" Masakaki said, Shirou barely able to keep the wonder off his face.

"Welcome to the Financial District, Mr. Emiya."


	3. FINANCING

**Disclaimer:** _Nope. Maybe one day. Yes? No? No. Alright._

 _So... who saw ufotable's version of Archer's UBW and immediately felt both elated and disappointed? And by that I mean elated at the fact that ufotable managed to do both the character and his Reality Marble justice, and disappointed at the fact the Crow's Claw version of the Emiya track wasn't playing at full blast the entire time. Or was that just me?_

 _Cue Bondage Head! You'll know when._

* * *

 **You Have Control**

 **[FINANCING]**

* * *

"Now then, I'm afraid we have to get straight down to business." Despite his words, Masakaki's ever-present smile never faltered. "I hope you understand. The Bank can't afford to go easy on Entre's, even newly minted ones. Extenuating circumstances, you see."

They stood in the middle of a street. Shirou had to admit, the Financial District was even more impressive up-close. It was like strolling through the middle of downtown Tokyo, but with less people and vehicles crowding the streets. Even small details were accurate, like the location of a ramen stand, or an ATM machine wired into the side of a building. More importantly were the streets, which were painted a sickly crimson matching the skies, and the buildings that seemed to be wrapped in panes of white tiling.

Masakaki had teleported him to this location, wherever it was, instead of letting the taxi cab complete it's journey towards the floating coin in the distance. Thankfully, Shirou had gotten used to the Bank representatives preferred method of travel, and decided not to question it. What he _did_ question was...

"What do you mean, 'business'?"

"You didn't think you'd earn money by doing nothing, did you?" Masakaki asked in what would have been a mocking tone, had it been any different from his usual voice. "Other than a modest investment startup we process towards your account, the Bank expects you to accumulate money by winning Deals." The ethereal man stepped aside, giving Shirou a full view of the street ahead. "If you'll check your wallet, you'll find your standard issue Midas Card. Trust me, you'll need it."

Shirou dug through his pockets and was only mildly surprised by the presence of a strange-looking card that seemed to have taken the place of his usual bank card. It was silver in color, almost metallic in appearance. The Midas logo sat on the lower left, while a large circle in the middle was transparent, with an opaque depiction of what looked like a hill of swords. The letters _ACHR_ were etched on the right, probably some kind of PIN code. "What am I supposed to do with this?" he asked.

"The first thing you'll want to do is to run your fingers over the face of your card." There was a ringing sound, and Masakaki checked a pocket-watch he seemed to have pulled from nowhere. "Oh. It seems you're opponent has arrived."

Ignoring the strong urge to ask the representative the plethora of questions gathered in his head, Shirou did as he was told. His fingers swiped across the surface of the card, and the transparent circle spun in place. There was an unpleasant cold sensation, poking and prodding through his insides. Thankfully the feeling only lasted a moment, and the card started to grow. There was a brilliant flash of light, where Shirou hurriedly covered his eyes with his arm and Masakaki smiled maniacally.

When the light died down, Shirou lowered his arm, only to find a man standing in front of him.

The man was tall, even more so than Shirou, whose height was already considered above average by Japanese standards. He had muscles features, and is skin was a tanned bronze. Over his shoulders and across his waist there was some kind of crimson raiment, and underneath that what looked like black armor. His hair was a pale shade of white, and two horns jutted out from the spiked-back locks, each about half a foot in length. Calm and calculative golden eyes scrutinized Shirou, staring at him with a mixture of curiosity and... disappointment? _For some reason, that really pisses me off_.

The man took a moment to take in his surroundings. When his eyes came back to Shirou, he asked, "What does it say?"

Shirou pointed a finger at himself. "You're... talking to me, right?"

The crimson-clad newcomer snorted. "Anyone else around here?" Shirou felt the need to point out Masakaki's presence, but when he turned around, the representative seemed to have disappeared. The man pointed at the card in Shirou's hands. "The card. What dies it say?"

The would-be hero glanced at the Midas Card. " _ACHR_. It looks like... Archer?"

The man stared at Shirou with raised eyebrows. "Archer? That's my name?" The newly identified Archer seemed to consider this, before he shrugged his shoulders. "It's as fine a name as any other, I suppose. At any rate, I look forward to Dealing with you."

"...okay," Shirou hesitantly let out.

The two of them stood there, staring each other in the eyes. After a few awkward seconds of staring at the imposing Archer, the newly minted Entre decided to throw caution to the wind and ask the question prodding the back of his mind. "So... who are you?"

Archer looked at him curiously. "What's that supposed to mean? I'm obviously your Asset." He paused, staring at Shirou like he'd grown a second head when the younger man gave him a blank look. "You know, the physical manifestation of your future? Didn't Masakaki explain any of this?" When Shirou continued to stay silent, Archer grew frustrated. "Did he tell you _anything?!_ "

"Not really," the college student answered. "He just said that if I came here I could win a lot of money."

"And you just accepted that? You didn't ask any questions?!"

Shirou had enough sense to know when he'd made a mistake. And looking back, he had been a bit too eager to accept Masakaki's deal. _It's not like it's my fault. As soon as he mentioned that I could use the money to fund my dream I_ \- Shirou sheepishly rubbed the back of his head. "I'll admit, I'm a little... impulsive, at times." Issei told him as much. Normally he'd brush an observation like that off, but when even _Shinji_ started to mention and make fun of it, he knew it was true.

Archer scoffed and crossed his arms. "Alright then, listen up. We don't have much time before the Deal starts, so I'm gonna give you a crash course on how to survive." He pointed at himself. "As I said before, I'm your Asset, the manifestation of your future given physical form. You are an Entre, and it is only through you that I can take action and fight the enemy." He raised a hand in silence when it looked like Shirou was going to interrupt him. "The enemy is an opposing Entre, along with their Asset. Any second now the Deal will start, and they're going to attack us." Archer pointed at the Midas Card still held in Shirou's hand. "And when they do, the only thing that will keep us from going Bankrupt is how you decide to use your money."

The serious atmosphere was beginning to cloud Shirou's mind, and he found himself a little nervous. _Is he serious?_ "What do you mean?"

"You have to spend money to make money, right?" Seeing his Entre hesitantly nod, Archer continued. "It costs money for me to initiate an attack and to defend _from_ attacks. If one of my attacks hit's the enemy Entre or their asset, we earn money, specifically that of the enemy's, and that money will be deposited into our account to be used for more attacks. In other words, we make a profit. However, the reverse also applies, so it's in our best interests not to get hit. There are three types of Flation, or special attacks, that I can use. The first is-"

"Oh? Are you two discussing battle plans over there?"

Both Shirou and Archer's attention were drawn towards the other side of the street. A small waif of a girl was standing there, bundled up in what seemed like purple winter clothes and wearing a fuzzy hat. She was smiling at the both of them, her white hair somehow flowing in a nonexistent breeze as a pair of crimson eyes gazed curiously at them. "So, I'm fighting a rookie today?" Her expression fell into a pout, something bursting with so much cuteness it took nearly all of Shirou's willpower not to fawn over her. "Well, it can't be helped, I guess." She flashed them a brilliant smile full of warmth. "My name's Illyasviel, and I'm gonna destroy the both of you! Try not to die too quickly, okay? That wouldn't be _any_ fun!"

"...what." Was Shirou's eloquent response.

 **[OPEN DEAL]**

There was a sort of whirring sound, and Shirou gazed at the sky to see two... eyeballs(?) hovering above both Illyasviel and himself. The one above him was about the size of a basketball, and it was surrounding by a miasma of orange. The one over the white-haired girl however, was just about the size of a school bus, and a sickly shade of purple miasma hung off of it. He turned towards Archer, the Asset wearing a worried expression. "What are those?"

Archer grimaced. "Our Bank Accounts."

The two Accounts violently crashed together, struggling for dominance. A black line formed where the two collided, and a red timer appeared underneath, reading 666.

Across the street, Illyasviel giggled. "Alright then, it's starting!" A black Midas Card was held in her hands, and as she brought it up to her face, Shirou could have sworn that he saw her crimson eyes flash an ominous golden. "Herakles, come on out!" She swiped the card in the air.

And before them stood a monster.

Simply calling the thing a giant would be an injustice. In reality, it was more like a hulking mass of muscle and Death. It's skin was seared black, a multitude of scars adorning it's body. In it's hand was a huge slab of stone, resembling a crude amalgamation between an axe and a sword. A tangle of ragged black hair fell from it's head like the mane of a lion, and an ominous red glint emitted from one of it's bloodshot eyes. The monster of a man regarded the two of them with it's maddened gaze, before it gathered breath onto it's lungs and let out a beastly roar. _"RAAAAAAAAAAGGGHHHHH!"_

The shockwave from the monster's roar alone was enough to send bits and pieces of debris headed Shirou's way. Archer calmly stepped in front of his Entre, regarding the beast with a pair of calculating eyes.

As Shirou stood there, looking on in fear at the small girl and the monster she seemed to command, only one question was on his mind. "Who are they?!"

Archer settled into a fighting stance, his arms held out to his sides. Motes of light seemed to gather around him, before solidifying into his hands. When the light faded, there were a pair of twin Chinese dao swords, one black and the other white, both with the symbols of yin and yang inscribed above the hilts. As the Asset sized up the monster, he took a moment to turn back towards Shirou. "They're the enemy."

"... _they're_ the enemy?" Shirou asked. He took another look at the monster, then turned to his Asset. "We're screwed."

Archer gave him a sardonic grin. "Yeah, I can't disagree with that."

Illyasviel smiled, but this one was absent of the warmth from earlier. Instead, it looked like the smile of a predator flashing the prey it's teeth. She calmly ran her fingers over the surface of her card. "Microflation," she said smugly, "fifty thousand."

 **[MICRO]**

The monster _moved_. It was faster than lightning, moving much quicker than a beast it's size had the right to be. In the blink of an eye, Herakles was upon them, it's wretched stone sword raised high over it's head.

"Shit!" Archer dispelled one of his swords and clutched at Shirou's hand. Before the Entre could ask his Asset what he was doing, Shirou found himself flying through the air. For a few seconds, he was weightless. Then gravity caught up with him and he crashed into the concrete, tumbling across the ground before he came to a complete stop. As he lifted himself up off the ground, Shirou turned to face his Asset. "Hey! What the hell was that-!" His inquiry died in his throat.

Archer was holding his twin dao's in an X guard, his muscles taught and his teeth grinding together. Above him was Herakles, the beast pushing down with his mockery of a sword. The ground beneath Archer's feet had formed into a crater from the stress, and cracks were still forming in the concrete. The two Assets were in a deadlock, one trying to squish his opponent with brute force while the other simply tried to survive. Unfortunately, something had to give, and that something was Archer. He grunted in pain as the force behind Herakles' sword multiplied. Deciding to take a risk, Archer quickly back peddled, letting the monster's blade smash into the ground. However, the resulting shockwave was monstrously strong, and the crimson-clad Asset found himself flung through a building.

Shirou stood there, his mind trying to process what had just happened. The display of monstrous strength he'd just witnessed refused to register in his brain.

 _Just what the hell did I get myself into?_

* * *

 **[C]**

* * *

"Hm. Well, that's just bad luck I suppose." Rin idly kicked her legs out, letting them dangle from the edge of the skyscraper as she observed the battle between Illyasviel von Einzbern and the rookie. "His first deal, and he has to fight the Berserker Duo? Tough break."

 _{Rin, why are you so interested in this Deal?}_

Rin Tohsaka adopted a thoughtful expression. "Well, if we ever end up facing Illyasviel again, I don't want to be caught unprepared. We went in blind last time, and we barely escaped going Bankrupt." She shivered in horror at the memory. "I ended up eating only tea and rice for the next month..."

 _{Indeed, she is a formidable Entrepreneur. But what do you think of the new Entre?}_

"Emiya?" Rin brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "Well, he wasn't Bankrupted in the first ten seconds, so color me impressed. His Asset was even able to hold off Herakles for a bit, and that's more than most can claim." She blinked, her eyes turning a pale golden. "Oh, they're moving again."

Emiya and his Asset were on top of the buildings now, hopping between rooftops in order to avoid Herakles. Emiya was being held by the scruff of his neck like a dog, and by the look of the way he was struggling under his Asset's hold, Rin guessed that he didn't find the situation so amusing. Meanwhile, the hulking mass of muscle chasing them was roaring in unadulterated fury, it's rage further powered by the multitude of Microflations that Illyasviel was casting upon it. All in all, it was akin to watching a mouse being chased by a bear.

 _{Emiya? Are you acquainted with the man?}_

The female Entre shrugged her shoulders. "Not really. He used to help the staff with cleaning and repairs at my old high school. Everyone called him the Fake Janitor. To be honest, I'm surprised he's here." She watched as Emiya's Asset narrowly dodged a swipe of Herakles' sword and retaliated by throwing one of his swords at the beast's face. She was a tad bit surprised when the sword detonated on impact, letting loose a smoke cloud they used to create some distance. "Though, he might just survive, as long as he's got an Asset like that."

 _{Indeed. Versatility such as that is rare in an Asset.}_

Rin brought up her Midas Card. She peered through the transparent circle, and saw that Artoria was observing the battle with hardened eye. With a flick of her wrist, she brought her Asset onto a visible plane of existence. "You're not jealous, are you?" she asked, a teasing lilt to her voice.

Artoria curtly shook her head. "Not at all. I think the two of them would provide an exhilarating fight."

"Maybe." The twin-tailed Entre returned her attention towards the fight, where Emiya and his Asset were hiding on top of one of the buildings whilst Herakles roared in frustration at it's prey having eluded it. "But they'll need to survive Illyasviel, first."

* * *

 **[C]**

* * *

Archer grit his teeth in frustration. "This is getting ridiculous. We're getting nowhere with this strategy." He glanced at his Entre, who was panting while lying on the floor. They'd taken shelter on the top of this building, with Shirou hoping that maybe Herakles would tire himself out searching for them across the block. _I doubt it_. Archer stealthily stuck his head over cover, and grimaced at the sight of the monster literally smashing through buildings in the hunt for his prey. _Something tells me that thing isn't going to tire out anytime soon_.

The Asset joined his Entre on the floor, sitting on the floor while his partner began to rise. "We need a plan of attack. At this rate, we'll run out of money just _defending_ against that monster."

Shirou rolled his eyes. "Well, I'm open to suggestions."

"The most viable plan would be to target the Entrepreneur." Archer idly rubbed his wrists, the bones starting to creak after the strain he'd put them through deflecting Herakles' ludicrously strong attacks. "She seems to heavily rely on her Asset to crush her opposition with brute force. We can't turn this battle into one of attrition, that thing has _way_ too much stamina. So, we cut off the head, figuratively speaking. If we can just get close enough to-"

"We're not doing that." Shirou stated bluntly.

"... and why not?" Archer asked, curious as to what his Entre had in mind.

The would-be hero looked directly into his Asset's eyes. "Because that wouldn't be right, that's why!"

Archer observed his Entre with intense eyes, looking for any sign of doubt. When he found none, he sighed, and beckoned Shirou to come closer. Thinking that his Asset might have a feasible strategy in mind, he leaned in closer...

Only for Archer to flick him in between the eyes, an action which carried much more force than it should have, which sent Shirou sprawling back towards the ground. When he managed to find his barrings, he rounded on his assailant. "Just what the hell was that for?!"

"'Because it wouldn't be right?'" Archer was scowling down at the red-haired Entre with open disdain. "Do you even realize how serious a Deal is?" The Asset stalked towards Shirou, lifting him up by the collar of his shirt. "If we go Bankrupt, that's it, the shows over! And you don't want to take advantage of our opponent's weakness... why, exactly?" He let go of the collar, allowing the college student to stand on his own two feet.

Shirou smoothed out the front of his shirt before glaring at the crimson warrior. "I'm not attacking some little girl just for money, damn it! Ignoring the whole 'you shouldn't hurt other people' lesson they give us in kindergarten, not to mention the fact I have no idea what's going on, she's a _little girl!_ "

"A little girl who, if you'd care to recall, has a hulking mass of death incarnate trying to Bankrupt us!" Archer spit out between grit teeth. _And what the hell is kindergarten?_

"And just why is that so bad?" Shirou seriously asked. "You keep throwing around the word 'Bankrupt' without explaining what that means! And something tells me that the conventional meaning doesn't apply in this situation."

"Tell me something. You were listening to me earlier, and not just pretending to, right?" Taking the silent glare Shirou sent his way as answer enough, Archer continued. "Well, then you must have caught the part where I told you that as your Asset, I'm the physical manifestation of your future. A concept given shape. When you agreed to become an Entrepreneur, you essentially gave the Bank permission to hold your future as collateral in exchange for access to the Financial District. And as long as you're an Entre, you'll have to participate in Deals, either once every week as mandatory service or by challenging a fellow Entre. Naturally, it's in your best interest to win as often as you can. As long as you invest your money wisely when Dealing, it is possible to make a profit."

"But here's the catch: should you lose the Deal, by coming out with less money than what you went in with, your future... it changes. Even the smallest margin can herald huge consequences. And as bad as that is, at least you have the chance to win it back in your next Deal. However, if you go Bankrupt? Instant banishment from the District. You'll find yourself in the real world, with no money, no one to help you, and most importantly, no future. What's worse is that no matter how hard you try, you'll never be able to get it back."

By this point, Archer had calmed down. Hopefully his Entre understood just how serious the situation was. "So, in answer to your question, going Bankrupt is a _very bad thing_. Not just for you, but for me as well. Because, if you were paying attention," the Asset pointed his thumb against his chest, "… well, I'm your future. And I have no intention of going Bankrupt today. Which means that whatever qualms you have against violence need to disappear, _right now._ "

Even with the explanation, his Entre still looked conflicted. "But we can't attack someone like that..."

Archer sighed, rubbing his forehead before deciding to try one last time to get through to his Entre. "Look, in any other circumstance, you'd probably be right. But you have to think of it this way," he explained. "It's either us, or them." The newly created Asset offered his hand to the prone Shirou, who looked at the offered appendage with an expression somewhere disbelief and mistrust. "Now get up. We've got us a Deal to-"

 **[MICRO]**

 _"RAAAAAAAAAGGGHHHHH!"_

The all-too familiar beastly roar erupted much too close for Archer's liking. He leapt onto the edge of the building, straining his eyesight to locate Herakles. Another maddened roar sounded throughout the city block, and the crimson-clad Asset looked down just in time to see the enemy monster standing at the foot of the building, it's large slab of stone winded far behind it's back.

 _He's not really going to_ -

With another mighty roar, Herakles slashed his sword across the supports of the skyscraper, utterly decimating the concrete structures. These was a loud explosion, the windows of the building all simultaneously shattering at the sheer force behind the beast's attack. And slowly, much to Archer's dismay, the building began to shift, collapsing under it's own weight.

Trying, and somehow succeeding, to remain calm despite the disastrous situation, Archer raced back towards his Entre, who looked a bit paler than he was a second ago. Without so much as a word of explanation, he unceremoniously lifted Shirou under his arm, ignoring the words of indignation the younger man was spouting. He dashed towards the edge of the falling building and ascended into the air.

Where Herakles was waiting for him.

The monstrous Asset had intercepted them mid-air, and Archer watched with frantic eyes as Herakles raised it's sword ahead, once again intent on destroying them.

 _Damn it, there's no way to dodge this one!_ Unable to bring out his own blades because of the way he was carrying Shirou, and not agile enough to dodge midair, Archer did the only thing he could do: protect his Entre. He faced his back towards Herakles, Shirou held against his chest in an effort to minimize the damage. Archer grit his teeth in anticipation of the agony he knew was to come.

He was not disappointed.

* * *

 **[C]**

* * *

The resulting impact was akin to an explosion, the fallen Asset crashing towards the ground and sending up a veritable tidal wave of debris and dust. Herakles was now clinging to the side of a building, his fingers digging deep into the concrete as he roared in victory, his prey finally caught.

Illya smiled at the sight.

Normally, the young girl didn't enjoy the pain of others. Quite the opposite, in fact. Before her scheduled Deals, she would always make it a point to visit her opponent and ask them to bow out. Normally forfeiting Deals came with a hefty price - specifically, that of half of your personal fortune. But Illya offered to replace that loss with her own money, a promise that she always kept. Though, her opponents might not have forfeited were it not for her Asset being the hulking monstrosity he was.

Herakles too, was quite docile, unless of course you riled him up. He was Illya's silent guardian, her only protector in the dog-eat-dog environment of the Financial District.

However, this particular Entre was different from the others. He held something akin to value to Illya.

 _I'm going to bleed you dry. I'll have Herakles pummel you and your Asset to dust until you have only a single yen to your name_. Illya smiled, a genuine, teeth-flashing, terrifying expression of happiness. _Then I'll have you tell me where Kiritsugu is._ Unbidden, a loud bout of laughter escaped from her, the only sound in an otherwise abandoned city block.

 _Oh, I'm going to have so much fun with you. Big brother._


End file.
